“The sky is grey,” people say, disappointed, looking out of the window.

I follow their gaze, but it is a smile, not a frown that comes over my face.

The sky is grey, the air is cool and the sun has migrated to warmer lands. Outside, my nostrils are filled with wood and wet earth. Trees are secreting a subtle perfume, very similar to their spring scent. Nature, however, is not dressing up for her annual appearance; she is taking off this year’s costumes to renew her wardrobe for next year’s show.

Summer is no longer playing games with Autumn. She teased him for a while, fooling him into thinking that she’ll stay a little longer. But she only put up with two weeks of his moodiness, his thoughtful silences and eccentric obsession with orange. Summer skipped away, perhaps a little offended, to go and find Spring, who always lets her stay.

Summer seduced me with her carefree laughter and bright eyes. But her childishness and incessant energy soon fatigued and frustrated me. When Autumn appeared, with his mysteries and independence, he asked for and obliged to nothing…and thus, made me want to give and take everything.

Every evening, I get drunk on his beauty. Like a child at a fun fair, my eyes devour everything and my heart bursts with joy at the magic of it all. I want to absorb the bright pallet of colours and paint my white walls in the warm hues of red, yellow and brown. I want to put the smell of burning twigs and ripe vegetables into a box, so that I can smell it on dull winter afternoons. I want to collect the fallen leaves and scatter them across my floor, to be able to live permanently in this enchanting season. I want to put time on pause, just for a day, to sit with nature in silence.

“Temperatures have fallen,” people say, shivering with disapproval.

Yet my cheeks are glowing and my limbs are filled with life as, suddenly, for the first time in nine months, my body meets a dear old friend – the cold.